Ashes of Eres III
by Kahran
Summary: KotOR Anger and rage ripped through his body, giving him center. The raw, seething power coursed through each tissue with an intoxicating fervor. And in that moment of existential bliss, Malak solidified his dissention from the Jedi. Rated M for violence.


**A/N:** After I wrote this little fic, it occurred to me that Malak couldn't have lost his jaw during the Wars, as we see him with it intact on Dantooine when he and Revan uncover the first Star Map. In lieu of this, I'm going to suppose that Revan and Malak were already aware of the Star Forge's existence during the latter part of the war, after they had presumably begun their gradual fall. I have changed the fic to reflect this. I also haven't the slightest clue how the Wars progressed and which system fell first and so forth, so I made it up. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story in spite of my apparent disregard for continuity. )

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** Ashes of Eres III**

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"_Let this disfigurement forever be a reminder as you sustain yourself in your arrogance."_

_Those same words resounded over and over in his mind as he awoke to the blinding light and icy sterility of a surgical suite. Monitors to his left and right beeped in precise synchronism. At the foot of his bed lay the familiar face of a beautiful woman, her silky auburn hair tied back in a tight, shoulder-length braid._

_Sensing his wakefulness, the beautiful woman opened her eyes and looked up at him, a peculiar melancholy played across her demure visage. "I should have stopped you," she spoke softly. It was the first time Malak ever saw Revan express regret._

_He opened his mouth in protest, only to discover he had no mouth. Chin, lips, teeth, tongue; all were gone. In it's place was a metallic prosthesis fused to his upper cheek. He tried to speak, but his voice was equally metallic._

_Revan sensed his pain and her hand found his. "Try not to speak," she soothed. "Rest now."_

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* * *

_

"I fear this is a great blow to the Republic."

Field Marshal Revan and Fleet Admiral Karath stood at the edge of a magnificent precipice overlooking Peoria, the capital city of Eres III; that is, what was left of it. The city was among the first on the Mandalorian's list of targets for the system. What was once a rich, architectural marvel was now little more than craters of glass buried beneath an ocean of cyan flame.

The Mandalorians were not the most practical of species, but lately they had been more discriminating with their targets. Eres III was the single largest source of industrial fuels and lubricants on the Outer Rim, servicing the needs of many Republic shipyards and military depots from as far away as the Core systems. With this drop in martial output, Republic forces will have to consolidate their numbers and protect certain key sectors while the Mandalorians remain free to pillage at will.

"This situation is unacceptable, Admiral Karath." Revan spoke mildly, her voice even and static.

Admiral Saul Karath simply blinked his eyes in acknowledgement. "I agree completely, sir. Intel didn't believe Eres to be a priority for Mandalorian attack." The admiral allowed himself a brief pause before finishing. "Someone will surely pay for this."

Revan closed her eyes and bowed her head in reflection. "You may take whatever action you believe is appropriate, of course. But be mindful that we're here to combat Mandalorians, not to satisfy your neurotic love of discipline."

Saul was quick to open his mouth in protest. "I would be remiss if I allowed such an _obvious_ tactical error to occur in my fleet, sir."

Revan chose to ignore the Admiral and directed her attention to an incoming shuttle which appeared from a dust cloud on the horizon.

"Expecting someone?" Admiral Karath inquired suspiciously.

"It's Malak and Jorus; I sense they are returning from their survey of the western continent," she replied flatly.

The senior fleet commander cursed under his breath. He had only known Revan and Malak for a few standard months now, but he was beginning to adjust to their uncanny instincts. Initially it was difficult for a seasoned naval officer such as himself to take a back seat to a pair of Jedi who simply showed up and began barking orders. But in recent weeks Revan's subsequent victories spoke for themselves, and Admiral Karath began to accept, if not rely on her apparent wisdom.

Malak, on the other hand, was a different story. Saul Karath abhorred Malak and his grand pretension, even despite the obvious talent- and love- the Jedi Guardian held for combat.

"Perhaps they know which of the Mandalorian clans are responsible for this atrocity?"

Revan once again ignored the Admiral and started towards the shuttle which set down just a few meters beyond the ridge where Revan and Karath stood. Even at such close proximity, the shuttle's running lights were all that stood visible through the endless wisps of soot and ash which now encapsulated the entire planet. The shuttle's egress hatch depressurized and a ramp lowered to the ground, followed by a pair of armour-clad Jedi knights and a Republic colonel.

Malak stood out most amongst the three, mostly due to his gargantuan height and tell-tale scalp tat. The second Jedi, Jorus Pethel stood significantly shorter than Malak, but possessed an equally polished head and ethereal charisma. The two approached Revan and Saul, followed closely by the nondescript officer.

Jorus stopped short of the ridge and gazed upon the remains of the capital. "I see the Mandalorians haven't lost their capacity for destruction," he said. "Even after the bloody nose we gave them at Serroco."

Malak sneered at the comment, obviously wasting no time before throwing in his two credits. "How many worlds must burn before those fools on the council begin to act?"

The other Jedi nodded his head in agreement before turning his attention to Revan and Saul. "Any word from Coruscant?"

"The senate is declaring Eres III a complete loss, and ordering us back to Onderon to solidify our defenses there," Saul replied.

Malak cursed once more, sharing in the Admiral's frustration with the politicians back home. "What about these damn fires? I doubt we can keep them contained."

"Geological experts on Coruscant suggest that due to the extremely high concentration of tripetrol compounds in the soil, the planet will continue to burn for years," the Admiral paused. "If not decades."

The three Jedi stood silent for a moment, reflecting on the gravity of destruction the Mandalorians brought before Jorus broke the silence by asking the question which was dancing on each of their tongues.

"How many?"

Saul shook his head and bowed, shaking the grim statistics from his mind. "Fortunately, the Western continent took the brunt of the opening bombardment. The west consists mostly of sparse, rural townships and tripetrol refining facilities. But the Mandalorians still managed to wipe out Peoria and its outlying cities on the eastern continent before we arrived. It's difficult to tell, but initial estimates suggest twenty-six million."

After a moment, Saul acknowledged the Colonel from earlier who began craning his neck towards the shuttle, obviously wanting to speak to the Admiral privately.

"Don't let us stop you, Saul," Revan interrupted, completely aware of the adjutant's discomfort.

"Thank you, sir," he replied, and began towards the shuttle.

"Twenty-six million," Malak repeated incredulously. "Those barbarians…"

Jorus motioned towards Revan. "Who do you figure could have done this? There are only a few in the Mandalorian hierarchy capable of doing this on their own."

Revan paused thoughtfully before answering. "I'm unsure, maybe Cassus Fett."

Malak dismissed the thought. "No, not even that jackal has the audacity to pull off such a carefully executed strike."

"If I may interrupt, General, I have urgent news from the fleet."

The three Jedi looked towards the Admiral and nonchalantly motioned for him to proceed.

The Admiral cleared his throat before proceeding. "The _Leviathan_ reports that two Mahout-class destroyers jumped in the system fifteen minutes ago and made a run for the planet. Captain Eros apparently panicked and ordered the _Cerberus_ to pursue. I have instructed the _Leviathan_ and _Redoubtable _to remain in orbit and Captain Eros has been relieved."

Jorus frowned inwardly. "Only _two_ destroyers? That doesn't make sense, Mandalorian tactics utilize dozens of ships, and they have never shown interest in surgical strikes."

Revan turned her back to the other knights, noticeably deep in thought on the recent development.

"Mandalore."

Malak, Jorus, and Saul all turned to regard their leader. "Mandalore." Malak repeated. "What about him?"

"Think about it," Revan replied. "The Mandalorian fleet wouldn't return unless they had something to gain. In their eyes, there is no further battle to be won here and no honour to be earned. This means they must have left something valuable behind before they pulled out."

Saul nodded in agreement. "I agree. When our fleet arrived in the system, the two Mandalorian cruisers in orbit stood their ground rather then trying to escape the range of our interdictor. Mandalorian's may be crazy, but they aren't often suicidal. They must have been trying to evacuate their soldiers still trapped on the southern continent. Mandalore must be with them."

"If we could kill Mandalore here and now," Saul continued. "Their leadership would crumble and the war would be over."

"We should keep them contained for now, Saul; we'll deal with the Mandalorians later. In the mean time, I want the _Cerberus_ to remain on patrol at the edge of the system in case more Mandalorian destroyers try to run our blockade."

"Forget about containment!" Malak exclaimed. "Look around, Revan. Twenty-six million people lie dead just below this cliff, we need to kill that bastard and end the war right now!"

Before Revan could interject, Malak was already halfway to the shuttle thanks to his great stride. Jorus tried to stop him, but was tossed aside effortlessly.

Revan simply stood and watched, knowing that once Malak made up his mind, it was nearly impossible to stop him.

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"_If we could kill Mandalore here and now, their leadership would crumble and the war would be over."_

Malak trudged relentlessly through the still Eresian night, Saul's words playing themselves over and over in his mind.

He tightened the grip on his lightsaber, for its bronze blade would soon take the head of Mandalore the Ultimate, and with him finally dead, the war would end.

Anger and rage ripped through his body, giving him center. The raw, seething power coursed through each tissue with an intoxicating fervor. And in that moment of existential bliss, Malak solidified his dissention from the Jedi.

He would do what those fools on the Council refused to do.

He would do what Revan refused to do.

He would become an instrument of justice and emblaze a new destiny across the galaxy, and he would start by ending the Mandalorian Wars here among the ashes of Eres III.

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"Our destroyers have been averted, and Republic cruisers have taken up position around the planet." 

Mandalore the Ultimate cursed beneath his helmet. How he allowed himself to be surrounded by such incompetence, he'd never know. Now, apparently it was his fate to die on some backwater world among the fools who stranded him there. No doubt it would be a sanctimonious end to his tenure as Mandalore.

Not if he could bloody well help it.

"Regus, you're about as useless as a Coruscant granite slug, and twice as stupid," he hissed. "Keep your scanners ahead and watch for anything that might resemble a shuttle or I swear I'll feed you to the next Kinrath pup we find on this sorry rock."

"Y-yes, Mandalore."

Their raiding party continued on for several standard hours before Regus' scanning device picked up the metallic signature of a shuttle. "I've found something," the veteran Neo-Crusader reported as he cautiously leveled his repeater towards the brush several meters ahead. "It's just beyond those trees."

"I'm detecting something else in the bush," a second soldier reported. "It's not reading as metallic."

"More Kinrath?" a third inquired as he followed suit with Regus and drew his disruptor rifle.

"I doubt it. We should take a closer look."

The five Mandalorians started towards the signature, each of them moving with all the grace of a stampeding ronto. "Anything yet, you useless gizka?" demanded Mandalore.

But before Regus could reply, he was promptly silenced by the snapping hiss of a Jedi's lightsaber. Each of the Mandalorians opened fire with alarming expediency, barely allowing their shadowed assailant time to deflect their repeater blasts.

The Jedi knight leapt from behind Regus' twitching body and cut down the next pair of flanking Mandalorians with practiced ease.

The remaining soldier managed to squeeze off a few shots of his disruptor, but the Jedi was prepared and deflected the bolts back, effectively burning two holes clean in his opponent's skull.

"I hope they didn't make you break _too_ much of a sweat," Mandalore goaded. "They've only killed maybe three Jedi between them."

Malak turned to face his mark, brandishing his saber before settling into a defensive posture. "Defend yourself, murderer!"

Mandalore gauged his would-be challenger and grinned beneath his helmet with the likeness of a Firaxan shark. "Tell me, who is this fool before me who is so willing to die?"

Malak gritted his teeth and tightened the grip on his saber. "I am General Malak, your executioner."

"Really," the other hissed. "All I see before me is a corpse, but I admire your bravado, General. And give you my thanks for bringing me a shuttle. Perhaps I shall reward you by bringing your head with me as a trophy."

"Enough!" Malak screamed, the Force coursing through his veins like molten rock. He then thrust his fist outwards, focusing all that power into a bolt of lightening and sent it crackling towards his opponent.

Mandalore reacted by throwing his massive repeating blaster into the bolt's path and it exploded in a brilliant display. As the blast settled, the Butcher of Serroco drew the large vibrosword at his side and launched himself at the Jedi with all the bloodlust of an Irridorian Battle Rager.

Malak barely had time to parry his opponent's savage blow, sparks flying as Mandalore's cortosis-woven blade clashed with his own sword.

The savage exchanged continued, and as time wore on, Malak began to feel his rage-fueled ferocity wearing thin. Mandalore on the other hand, didn't seem to be fatigued at all.

Malak lunged at his opponent, saber poised for a horizontal coup de grace, but Mandalore deflected the lightsaber and sent it flying from reach. Malak's desperate maneuver left him off balance, and Mandalore- who's body was of equal mammoth proportion to Malak's- pinned his assassin to the sandy floor and placed his blade at his neck, and with a swift motion of the wicked blade, removed the Jedi's mandible instead of slicing the carotid artery.

Malak grit his eyes closed, rendered unable to scream by the profuseness of his own blood.

"Well fought, Jedi," Mandalore hissed. "But I couldn't ignore your ridiculous challenge. Let this disfigurement forever be a reminder as you sustain yourself in your arrogance."

The last thing Malak saw was the surreal image of his own disembodied jaw reflected in the black depths of Mandalore's helmet.


End file.
